


There Was a Door

by MirrorMystic



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab, The Invisible Library - Genevieve Cogman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 06:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10183007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: To create a door between worlds, you need a token from the world you wish to visit.He shouldn't have used the book.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Short, and sweet, a "what if" between two worlds I've recently enjoyed reading- and one I hope you enjoy, as well.

~*~  
  
He shouldn’t have used the book.  
  
To create a door between worlds, you needed three things: blood, because power was in the blood. The words, to command the power. And a token from the world you wished to travel to, in order to guide the gate to your destination.  
  
A token could be anything. A playing card. A chess piece. Coins worked well. He carried a number of coins on leather cords around his neck, for just this purpose.  
  
He shouldn’t have used the book.  
  
In London, that is to say this London, magic filled everything, and everyone. As a magician himself, he could feel it, like calling to like, resonating like a struck bell. And the magic filling the trio pursuing him was very powerful, indeed.  
  
One man. Two women. The man had an affinity for water the magician had never seen before. But it was the women that scared him. For they broke the rules.  
  
Six elements. Six affinities of magic. Water, earth, fire, air. The rare fifth element, bone, for those who could control bodies. The sixth element, blood, was rarer still.  
  
These women had power over a seventh element. The power of words. They spoke, and the world obeyed.  
  
They wanted the book.  
  
He shouldn’t have used the book.  
  
Three people were chasing him through London’s streets, the air gleaming crimson with the lifeblood of the Thames. One of them was the most powerful water magus the magician had ever seen. The other two were powerful in a school of magic that should not exist. They were different.  
  
They were _dangerous_.  
  
He had to get away. Answers would come later. For now, he had to escape.  
  
He rounded a corner into an alleyway, footsteps trailing behind him, ripping the knife out of his sleeve. No doors nearby. No matter. He’d make his own, in the street if he had to. Without time to think, without time even to pull the coins out from beneath his collar, he swiped the knife across his palm, anointing the street with a drop of blood.  
  
Three keys opened a door.  
  
One. He drew a circle in blood on the ground.  
  
Two. “ _As Travars_ ,” he said, the air thrumming with power.  
  
Three.  
  
_He shouldn’t have used the book._  
  
Nonetheless, the paving stones rippled below him, and he fell through the gate and into another world, his three pursuers only a moment behind.  
  
~*~  
  
He fell upwards through the gate, floating in mid-air for a moment before local gravity reasserted itself and dropped him onto the cobblestones. Almost immediately, a carriage rushed past, and he had to throw himself out of the way and onto the mercy of the sidewalk.  
  
The magician slipped the knife back into its sheath up his sleeve, clutching the book to his chest with his unhurt hand. He studied it in the dim, yellow gaslight.  
  
_“A Scandal in Bohemia”_ by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Slim, for a book. Leather-bound. As far as he could tell, it was a simple work of fiction, but he knew it couldn’t possibly be that simple.  
  
Three of the most powerful mages he’d ever encountered wouldn’t chase him through the worlds if it were _just_ a book.  
  
The magician lifted his head, studying his surroundings. Carriages trundled past, driven not by horses, but strange whirring contraptions that vented steam. Above him, moored to rooftops, were the shadows of zeppelins. Airships. This was a land of machines. But there was still magic here, thrumming beneath the surface. He could feel it.  
  
This was not the mundane world of Gray London, nor was it Red London, infused and empowered with magic at every turn. This was not the starving, drained world of White London, stripped to the bone, nor was it the roiling nightmare of Black London, where magic surged out of control.  
  
Kell, the Red Magician, in his desperation, had opened a gate to a London he had never seen before, with a key that had three master mages hounding at his heels.  
  
Kell swallowed hard, absently touching the charms around his neck. Those were keys whose doors he knew. But now he was a stranger, in a strange land, and for all he knew, he was still being pursued.  
  
He shouldn’t have used the book.  
  
~*~


End file.
